


Recovered Petals

by Toast_42



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game), The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Crossover Pairings, F/F, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Gaia Sash, Gen, Guilt, Hurley is dead, Joja is Evil, Love, Magic, Moving On, Multi, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, References to Depression, Sloane survived, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, The adventure zone stardew valley crossover no one asked for, farming, magical realsism, past drinking, spoiler warning: the adventure zone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-02-27 15:59:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toast_42/pseuds/Toast_42
Summary: After a close encounter with a powerful magical artifact, loosing her fiancee, and covering up her dubious past through mind numbing basic mechanic work, Sloane finds herself in the possession of Cordero Farm on the outskirts of Pelican Town. With nosy neighbors, excitable friends, and Joja Corp being shady, the relaxing farm life Sloane was hoping for is going to be a lot more hectic.Abigail's curiosity is sparked when the new, mysterious farmer walks into her father's store and offers the possibility for true adventure. What she didn't expect was just how much adventure Sloane would bring to the valley.





	1. Cordero Farm

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Adventure Zone](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/348477) by Griffin, Travis, Justin, and Clint McElroy. 



> Hey guys! This work is hopefully going to be pretty SFW, but this chapter is definitely SFW!

 

Thinking back, Sloane wasn’t sure if Hurley’s grandfather ever actually met Hurley. This ‘farm’ was too quiet to have held her attention for long. Not to mention how far away from any form of raceway it was.

“So this is Cordero Farm,” said the woman with the red hair said, gesturing to the large, overgrown piece of land before them. _Robin_ , Sloane corrected herself. _The carpenter._

Sloane parked her motorcycle next to the small cottage near to the entrance of the farm before walking next to Robin and taking a deep breath.

“What’s the matter?” Robin asked, looking at her sideways.

Sloane closed her eyes a moment. “Nothing is wrong. Just doesn’t look much like a farm,” Sloane replied, opening them once more. Underbrush, broken branches, and small boulders crept up to the porch of the cottage, blocking any line of sight to the actual soil below. Only a few feet further started a tree line that could rename the land to Cordero Woods.

Robin put her hands on her hips. “Sure, it’s a bit overgrown, but there is some good soil under all that mess. With a little dedication, you’ll have this cleaned up in no time,” Robin replied with a confident nod.

Sloane focused, feeling out the health of this land. The aura of plant life was strong here, stronger than most forests she had been in before. There was an odd familiarity to it. _Must be the essence of the Cordero family._

“Sloane?” Robin asked, gently resting a hand on Sloane’s shoulder. “Are you alright? You zoned out there for a moment when I asked you a question.”

Sloane shook her head, clearing the traces of the remnant magic from her mind. “Oh, sorry. Just taking in the place. What did you want to know?”

“I was just curious how you got the deed to this place? Old Man Cordero never seemed the type to sell a place like this…”

“I was engaged to his granddaughter before she passed," Sloane explained simply, crossing her arms. "Her grandfather had given her the deed to this place and I think she was wanting to move out here. Whatever her intentions, she left it to me in her will.” 

Robin’s eyes widened in shock, but the door to the cottage opened before she could say anything. And older man with a graying mustache in a flat cap and suspenders strolled out, a large grin on his face.

“Ah, the new farmer! Welcome! I’m Lewis, Mayor of Pelican Town,” Lewis said, stepping forward and shaking Sloane’s hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mayor,” Sloane replied, breaking the contact quickly.

“Please, call me Lewis,” Lewis corrected. “You know, everyone has been asking about you. It’s not every day that someone new moves in. It’s quite a big deal!”

Sloane tried to give a convincing smile, but she knew it probably didn’t translate well to the others. _Great, this town is full of nosy neighbors. Exactly what I need right now._

“So… You’re moving into Old Man Cordero’s cottage,” Lewis continued, changing the subject back to business. “It’s a good house… very ‘rustic’.”

“Rustic. That’s one way way to put it…” Robin said, unconvinced. “Crusty might be a little more apt, though.”

Sloane couldn’t help but laugh. While the cottage looked sturdy, built from solid wood in a way they don’t do nowadays, the years of no attention showed. With a hole in the porch and visible breaks in the wall's wood work, it needed some real TLC.

“Thats rude,” Lewis huffed, glaring at Robin. “Don’t listen to her, Sloane. She’s just trying to make you dissatisfied so that you buy one of her house upgrades.”

Robin rolled her eyes, but otherwise made no comment.

“Anyway… You must be tired from your long journey. You should get some rest,” Lewis continued, placing a hand on Sloane’s shoulder. “Tomorrow you ought to explore the town a bit and introduce yourself. The townspeople would appreciate that.”

“Will do if I’m still alive after clearing all this,” Sloane replied with a small chuckle and salute before retreating into the cottage. Once the door closed, she sunk to the ground. “Had to pick the intrusive small  town, huh babe?”

 

A day of slinging various tools at this piece of land and several hundred swears later, the area in front of the cottage started to resemble what could be loosely defined as a farm. Sloane sat on the steps to the cottage, analyzing her work over a lukewarm soda. _I’ve seen better in the back room of an apartment._

Sloane shook her head, knowing that she shouldn’t tear herself down too much. She just started, but this is definitely not what she had in mind when she began this morning. She drove the wild plant life back and tilled the soil, but the marks of her mistakes wore on the land and in her sore muscles. She stood up and stretched. Fifteen parsnips would not be enough to sustain herself on. She needed more seeds.

Sloane walked back inside, looking around the mostly bare room. A small bed, table, and a stack of wooden crates she set up as a makeshift kitchen lined the walls, along with a small TV connected to one of the few electrical outlets. _One of those house upgrades sounds pretty good right about now._

She scooped up her pack and grabbed the map that came with the seeds that Lewis left behind. He had filled in some of the locations, including a building labeled Pierre’s General Store.

“Well, it’s a place to start,” Sloane mumbled before locking up and heading towards the town.

 

Abigail slowly worked her way through the isles of the father’s store, reorganizing the products on the shelves and taking inventory, thinking about the next session of Solorian Chronicles she would be playing with Seb and Sam. She listened quietly as her mother and Jodi chatted near the register.

“The mayor said that the new farmer finally moved in! It’s been forever since someone has been working that land…” Jodi said.

“Agreed,” Mom replied. “I heard from Robin that she isn’t even related to Josh Cordero. She received the deed from Cordero’s granddaughter…”

Before Jodi could reply, the doorbell jingled and someone walked into the store, throwing Jodi and her mom into a hush. Abigail peeked out of the isle to check out the tall woman surveying the store. Her electric blue eyes stood against her dark brown skin, black tank top, and dark wash jeans. A ring dangled on a small chain around her neck, a worn messenger bag slung from her shoulder, and an ax hung from a belt loop.

“Welcome to Pierre’s!” her father called from the register. “You must be the new farmer! I’m Pierre.”

The farmer approached the register, a small smile on her face.

“Thank you, Pierre. Please just call me Sloane, and I don’t know if I can be called a farmer yet,” Sloane replied with a shrug. “You wouldn’t happen to sell seeds?”

Abigail returned to cataloging the shelf of cooking ingredients, listening to her father’s and Farmer sloane’s conversation about seed pricing and negotiations about a trade for grown produce. Several minutes passed before she heard footsteps coming up her isle. She turned in spot and caught Sloane in the shoulder with her clipboard.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Abigail said, pulling the clipboard to her chest.

Sloane had also jumped back, tensed as she eyed Abigail up and down. With a deep breath, Sloane relaxed. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Sloane. I just moved in.”

“Abigail,” she replied, holding her hand out. “I heard someone new was moving onto that old farm. It’s a shame, really. I always enjoyed exploring those overgrown fields by myself.”

Sloane chuckled and shook Abigails hand. “I’m sure you could find quite a bit of adventure out there. I know I will definitely have an interesting time clearing it.”

Abigail grinned at the mention of adventure. “I guess I’ll just have to go on an expedition to Cindersnap forest instead.”

“Sounds more interesting than a not so abandoned farm,” Sloane replied, moving past Abigail and picking up a sack of rice. “See you around, Abigail.”

Abigail waived slightly, her cheeks growing warm as she watched Sloane take her sack of rice and a few packets of seeds up to the register. Jodi and her mother made small talk with Sloane as Pierre checked her out. Before long the doorbell jingled again, marking Sloane’s leave.

Abigail went back to counting goods, making sure she corrected the rice count. However, instead of eavesdropping, she thought of what it would be like to go with Sloane on one of her adventures. Maybe she would play Solorian Chronicles with them…

 


	2. Sunrise

_Sweat ran down Sloane_ _’s face under her helmet as she squinted through the dust clouds on the road. In a blink of an eye, a black obelisk passed by, marking the edge of the raceway._

Two more.

_She accelerated, trying to pass Team Mantis and edge her way into first place._

_Glancing in the rearview, Sloane noticed another wagon quickly approaching. A large maw filled with rows of sharp teeth steadily approached her tail end._

Damn it, not now!

_She returned her attention from the Hammerhead wagon back to the Mantises, just in time to see a bunch of small black orbs fall onto the road._

_With a flip of a switch, The Ravenwing deployed a large set of wings and kicked up into the air. Another button and the small thruster engaged and she was gliding. She touched back down after a few seconds, but it was enough to avoid the orbs and break even with the Mantises. She put the pedal to the floor and sped forward, leaving the Mantis wagon and-_

_BOOM!_

_Red and orange light blossomed in Sloane_ _’s rearview mirror as a shock wave nudged the Ravenwing even further._

_She didn_ _’t notice the next two obelisks pass by._

I did it again.

_She barely noticed the finish line as she crossed it._

Those guys couldn’t have survived.

_The Hammerhead wagon arrived at the end as a flaming heap of metal on the bed of a tow truck._

_“Raven! Raven! Raven!”_

_The crowd sounded so muffled. She left her helmet on as she crawled out of the Ravenwing. She, for once, appreciated that custom._

_“Raven! Raven! Raven!”_

_Sloane was pretty sure the announcer congratulated her by the roar of applause from the crowd, but their voice was too muffled to be sure. Her eyes scanned the hoards of people approaching, but instead settled on something in the distance._

_A column of smoke was forming above Little West End. Talon Automotive. Her home._

_“No!” Sloane cried, yanking her winnings from the announcer and jumping back into The Ravenwing. She sped through the crowd only to be stopped by a single man standing in the middle of the entry gate._

_“I warned you,” Maarvey mouthed with the smallest smirk before stepping aside._

_Fear and anger burned in Sloane_ _’s chest as she sped off and tore through side street after side street._

Too long, I am taking too long _._

_She could hear the sirens before she turned onto her street. The smoke in the air was almost as bad as the dust clouds from the track. When she pulled up as close as she could, the sky was obscured by the dark gray ash._

_Everything slowed. Getting out of the car felt like five minutes. Taking off her raven skull helmet felt like another two._

_The walk to the police line felt like hours. Hours of watching everything she had worked for burn to the ground. The days of constructing and enhancing the Ravenwing to make sure she could drive clean. Gone. All the preparation for progress and client information she struggled to gather over the past years. Ashes._

_When she walked past the barricade, a militia officer stopped her._

_“You can't … carbon monoxide asphyxiation … nothing left,” the officer pleaded in a distant voice as he held her back._

Nothing left.

 

 

Sloane sat straight up in bed, half expecting to be sitting on asphalt surrounded by smoke. Her chest was tight and she was having trouble breathing.

_“Gotta slow down that breathing, now don’t ya?”_

Hurley’s words filled her mind as she gradually took control of her breathing.

_“In. Out.”_

Sloane took one deep breath in and then let it go.

_“In.”_

Deep breath in.

_“Out.”_

Steady Exhale.

It always surprised her how clear Hurley’s voice would spring up during these times, despite being gone for over two years. Sloane wiped her face, clearing the beads of sweat from her forehead and most likely messing up her hair.

Shadows clung to the walls and floor, obstructing the little things that made this shack a home in the daylight. Photos of a family who hadn’t lived here in years, possibly decades. That one floorboard that creaked no matter how lightly you stepped on it.

Sloane slumped forward, resting her elbows on her knees. _It sure is quiet out here_ _…_

Goldcliff was never this quiet at night, either with gunshots or the revving of late-night drag races pushing back the silence. Zuzu City was worse, with constant traffic and the occasional drunken fight outside her apartment.

Daring to think back to the dream, Sloane furrowed her brow. She hadn’t had a nightmare about Talon Automotive in forever. Her old shop rarely crossed her mind these days, let alone the destruction of it that started her downward spiral.

_“And ascension.”_

_I suppose._

While the sudden implosion of her chest had ceased, the vacuum that had taken residence remained. And it longed to be filled with something right now.

It would be so easy to head over to the 24-hour Joja mart and buy some of that liquid solidarity. Get a quick respite from the longing.

 

But that wouldn’t fix anything.

 

Sloane kicked off her blankets and stood up, heading over to the cooler that she called her fridge for the time being. How Cordero lived out here without reliable refrigeration has surprised her every day this week. She pulled out two bottled teas, stuffing one in her bag and opening the other.

It offered nothing but a lemon laced mockery of the burn she craved. It would have to do.

Getting dressed in the dark wasn’t difficult, but she still ended up with her shirt on backward. Grabbing her sack, her shoes, and boot knife, Sloane headed out to the porch.

Nearly two weeks worth of hard labor turned most of the wildland near the house into fields of potatoes, parsnips, and cauliflower. A half-built trellis stood in the distance, almost ready for the green beans that would soon be growing there. She even started tending to a few different kinds of lowers in the pots around her house. By the placement of the shadows and placement of the moon, it was probably around 4 AM. Too early to bother with watering or any other chores.

Not too early to go watch the sunrise.

Finishing the last knot on her boots, she set off to the path north of the farm. Vaguely remembering a story Hurley told about one summer on this farm, she knew somewhere down this path would be a good perch to welcome the new day from. 

The people in the valley were nice enough, going about their daily lives and jobs. They didn’t come by and poke their noses into her business, though. Not that she had much to be poked into besides how she had forgotten to water half a plot of potatoes yesterday and now her sale schedule was thrown out of whack. If only Hurles could see her now, thinking an off schedule was something worth gossip.

The path wound between a hill and a cliff face with a few pines dotting the sides. She recognized the blooming salmonberries.

_Maybe that recipe book I found with the pictures has something that needs those. They_ _’re too bland by themselves otherwise._

The path opened up to a mountainside overlooking the whole of the valley. Through the trees, Sloane could catch the glimmer of the ocean in the distance, preceded by the dim streetlights of pelican town. The silence didn’t extend this far out of the farm, with a combination of cricket chirps, frogs, and the gentle babble of the river giving life to the night.

Moonlight shown down in the open path, illuminating the cliff Hurley must have talked about. A small amount of brush skirted the edge, providing some privacy to the camp set up on the plateau. A large yellow tent sat next to the mountain, the embers left in the fire pit offering a slight orange glow. Just beyond the camp, a small outcropping of rock stood overlooking the river.

Sloane sighed softly, going into a crouch. The ground underneath had minimal gravel and leaf litter, minimizing the sound of her footsteps as she skirted the foliage to the rock. No movement came from the tent, so she knew she was in the clear. She settled in, finishing off the first tea as she looked over the river.

_Hurley spent some of the best times of her childhood here._

The vacuum returned at the lack of her love. Had she not been stupid, she could have moved out here with Hurley. Raise plants and animals. Socialize with the townsfolk. Start a family.

She hugged her knees, watching as the bottoms of the clouds on the horizon began to turn orange.

“Hello?”

Sloane tensed, unsheathing the knife in her boot and jumping up in one fluid motion. At the base of the rock stood an old, bearded man wearing clothes repaired with what looked like leaves. He stumbled back, in shock by the sudden defense.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, stranger. People don’t normally come up this way, let alone move through my camp without me noticing,” the man said, putting his hands up in a non-threatening manner.

After a few heavy breaths, Sloane lowered her knife and slumped her shoulders. She was losing her edge if this guy could sneak up on her.

“Didn’t mean to intrude. ‘Thought this was far enough away from your tent,” Sloane replied, putting her blade back in her boot.

“Well, this land isn’t technically mine, so I can’t stop you,” he said with shrug. “Fair warning would have been nice.”

Sloane grabbed her bag. “Sorry for the bother. I’ll leave you be,” she said, grabbing her bag and hopping down from the rock.

“I don’t think that would be necessary. You come to watch the sunrise?”

Sloane cocked an eyebrow at the old man. “Well, yes. Yes, I was,” she replied.

“Then, if you wish, we could watch it together,” he suggested, motioning back up to the rock. “Like I said, this land isn’t mine and this is the best spot to watch the sunrise.”

Sloane blinked in surprise. This man whom she nearly just attacked was offering to sit with her to watch the sunrise.

_“Don’t be rude…”_

_I_ _’m well past being rude._

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Just thought I’d offer,” the man said, studying Sloane’s face.

With a small shake of her head, Sloane cleared her thoughts.

“Sorry, long night. I would love too,” she replied with a small smile. “I’m Sloane, by the way. I moved to Cordero Farm a few weeks ago.”

“Linus, pleasure to meet you,” Linus said with a small smile before climbing up the rock. “I was wondering when the new farmer would wander out this way.”

Sloane followed him up, sitting a comfortable distance away without falling down the cliff side. “Clearing and planting has taken a lot longer than I would have thought,” Sloane admitted, pulling her extra tea out of her bag and handing it over to Linus. “I know it’s not much, but here. For threatening to attack you earlier.”

Linus looked over at her before taking the drink. “Thanks. I subsist on foraging and what others have thrown away. It’s a much simpler life,” he murmured, taking a sip.

Off in the distance, more of the clouds turned to a golden red as the midnight blue sky slowly shifted to lilac and then pink and orange. The new day’s light started to backlight the nearby mountains and reflect off the ripples in the lake. The sound birds chirping started off slow but soon picked up. A door opened and shut in the house further down the hill, and soon a tall looking man with dark hair appeared next to the lake with a cigarette in hand.

“That’s the carpenter's boy. He comes out here sometimes to have a smoke before heading back inside. He’s some kind of freelancer, I think,” Linus mentioned, glancing down at the man before returning to the rising sun.

“Do you watch everyone’s schedule around here?”

“Eh, when they come by this area I do or when I make my way into town,” Linus said with a shrug. “I don’t do that often though.”

Sloane gave a slight nod, watching the river flow as she fidgeted with the ring on her necklace.

“Those Joja Co people have caught my attention lately, though. They recently started taking interest in that abandoned mine over there. I don’t know what caused it, but the feeling in the valley has changed and I think someone at Joja noticed,” Linus continued, nodding to the work site breaking down a boulder in front of the bridge over the river. “They were working the mountain so hard that it caused a mountain slide.”

Sloane frowned. “I doubt whatever it is, it's not any good for this valley…”

“Sounds like you have history.”

“Came out here after working as a mechanic for them for two years. I’m not surprised that they caused a mountain slide; they cut corners with their equipment all the time.”

“Figures. I hope they give up soon, they always work so late and I have a hard time sleeping.”

Sloane gave a small chuckle before looking back up to the mountains. The sun peeked out, mostly banishing the darkness of the night.

“Well, this was nice, Linus. I should head back to the farm and water the plants. They are thirsty little shits,” Sloane said, repacking her pack. “Sorry again for scaring you earlier. I don’t do well when startled.”

“It’s understandable. Thank you for the beverage and the company,” Linus replied with a grin, hopping down and offering a hand to Sloane.

Landing on her feet, she dusted her pants off. “If you don’t mind, could you keep an eye on them for me? I don’t want them ruining this chapter of my life too,” she said, nodding in the direction of the mine.

“Can do. Stay out of trouble, I have a gut feeling you could get tied all up in it if you don’t keep an eye out. And you can’t bring me nice gifts like this one if you’re too busy to come see me,” Linus joked, walking back to his tent. “See you later, Stranger.”

Sloane laughed softly as she headed back down the mountain path. Rays of sunlight started to stream through the pines as she stepped back onto her property. Seedlings swayed gently in the morning breeze as they sat in their dry soil. Sloane walked to her tool shelf when she gave a good look at the cottage in the daylight.

From the back of the house grew thin black vines studded with silver tipped thorns. _Silverpoint._

Instead of reaching for the watering pail off the shelf, Sloane picked up the ax. This was more urgent than her plant’s thirst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking down the last chapter two and then replacing it. I didn't feel like the last version meshed well with the story I want to tell. I kept one scene and then rewrote the rest of the chapter. Thanks again for all the people leaving comments and kudos! It's really encouraging to see that people are interested in this fic, despite the odd crossover. Anyway, next chapter again will be either Abigail oriented or Sloane backstory. We'll see what I'm feeling.


	3. Silver Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Offical TAZ SPOILER WARNING from here on! Also, trigger warning for character death.

Sloane methodically slammed rocks into the cleared patch of dirt, forming a large enclosed pit. The consistent thud of stone on soil gave her something to focus on besides the blatant loss of control that happened last night.

Growing deadly vines after a particularly stressful dream were nothing compared to what she could have done when she had the Gaia Sash, but no one survives an encounter with such a powerful magic artifact without being affected. Influencing nature, with a general specialty on plants, was pretty good considering what happened.

Sloane shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. Opening them again, she headed back to the cottage, fishing out some heavier duty gloves and grabbing her motor jacket. There was no reason to be hasty.

Loading the wheelbarrow full of vines took longer, but it kept her from getting anywhere close to the silver spines that held the deadly poison.

_I could get so much gold on the black market for this stuff._

The thought came from nowhere. She hadn’t been apart of any heist for years yet she still remembered. Assuming the market was still the same as it was years ago, she could have gotten several gold for every thorn. There were thousands in this pile.

_“I can’t cover for you forever, Sloane. One day the militia will find out.”_

Hurley always wished she would stop committing crimes, no matter how profitable it was. She was always the good cop.

Sloane hauled the mass over to the fire pit and dumped it in. She was lucky, building the pit just big enough to contain the fire that would soon be roaring. She grabbed the jug of kerosene she went and bought from Pierre and unscrewed the top, dumping its contents over the plant matter. She lit a match on her boot and dropped it on the pile. Flames burst up, first black and then the natural orange. Clouds of black smoke floated into the air, away from the farm.

 

“Grab that triple shot!” Sam yelled, leaning to the right as he pushed his sprite in the same direction.

“I’m working on it. There’s, like, ten zombies in the way!” Abigail responded, spamming the attack button.

“Well, get them out of the way! It’s gonna despawn!”

“When I said you guys could play on my extra monitor, I was hoping you would be quiet,” Sebastian grumbled from behind his computer screen.

“You should know not to hope for much when it comes to Journey of the Prairie King,” Sam said with a laugh, expertly moving his sprite around the approaching enemies.

Abigail frowned, her eyes trained on her sprite and the zombies she was trying to avoid. She passed by one of the entry gates trying to get to the tripe shot when a squadron of the zombie adversaries spawned in the gate and killed her.

“Fuck!” she yelled, tossing her controller down as she lost her last life. “I’ll never get past level one…”

“You’ll get there eventually. Just gotta practice,” Sam said, nudging her with his elbow as he continued on solo.

“I’m done practicing today,” she said before flopping back onto some pillows they had laid out before playing.

“Well, now with classes back in session, you’ll have even less time to practice. I guess you could spend less time in the graveyard…” Sam said with a small smirk.

“No way. I need to practice my swordsmanship if I'm ever going to go down in the mines!”

“There’s nothing interesting down there. It's just ore and monsters that will try and kill you,” Sebastian pointed out, not breaking focus from his work.

“There has to be something down there… why would the adventurers guild be posted up there then? There haven't been any new recruits in forever!”

“And? That Marlon guy is good enough to keep the monsters in the cave, so why would more need to come?” Sebastian said, looking over at Abigail. “I think you’re taking Solarian Chronicles a bit too seriously…”

“I think you’re just jealous that I’m actually interested in doing something cool with my life.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “The closest job you could get with sword fighting skills is in a circus.”

“Guys, chill. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to learn cool skills, but Seb is right about how dangerous it is in the mines. You don’t need anything from down there, so there’s no reason to go and get yourself killed,” Sam said, looking at his two friends. “Gosh, you two sometimes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Abigail asked with a huff.

“Yeah, what IS that supposed to mean?” Sebastian added.

“I’m just saying, you two argue almost as much as Evelyn and George when at the summer Luau sometimes. I can see why your parents keep trying to get you two together,” Sam explained, going back to the video game.

Abigail frowned, shaking her head. “I’m not interested and I definitely know Seb isn’t. He hasn’t even attempted to flirt with a woman since he came out to us.”

“Yeah. And we only tolerate the comments from our parents so I can lay low until I can move out to Zuzu City,” Sebastian continued, returning to his work.

Sam sighed. “Yeah, I know, I know.”

Abigail looked over, noticing Sam’s slumped shoulders as he made his way through the levels of Prairie King.

“So, have you guys met Sloane yet? I haven’t seen much of her since I met her at my dad’s store the week before last,” She asked, changing the subject.

“I think I saw her coming up from the beach a couple days ago. She doesn’t seem to be the talkative type,” Sam said with a shrug. “It’s sad, I was hoping she would be a little more involved being someone from the city.”

“I saw her hanging out with that guy who lives in the tent early this morning. I went to have a smoke after pulling an all-nighter and she was just chilling up on that rock watching the sunrise with him,” Sebastian said. “Kinda weird if you ask me.”

“Hmm, she seemed pretty nice at the store. Startled easy, but nice. Maybe she just doesn’t like talking to people…” Abigail said, sitting up. “Maybe she’ll be at the Stardrop tonight…”

“She wasn’t there last Friday, doubt she’d be there tonight,” Sebastian said with a shrug. “I’m almost finished here and then we can head out.”

“Finally!” Sam teased, exiting out of the game.

Abigail stood up and started throwing the pillows back on Sebastian’s bed. “I heard Gus talking about making some chocolate cake, so if we get there early, we may get first dibs on the good slices.”

“Are you sure he just mentioned making some or did you drop a hint that he should?” Sebastian asked, shutting his computer down and pulling on his hoodie.

“I would never do that to Gus,” Abigail said with a shit-eating grin. Just saying that she loved his chocolate cake when he was asking her father what he should make didn’t mean she was suggesting he should definitely bake a cake.

“Yeah, right,” Sebastian responded, shaking his head.

They headed upstairs, Sebastian taking a moment to tell Robin he was heading down to the Saloon. The walk down the hill was quiet, with Sebastian taking the opportunity to smoke a cigarette and Sam checking his messages. Abigail took a deep breath.

_Today could have only been better if it was raining._

The valley during rain was both louder and quieter. The raindrops hitting both land and water drowned out the sounds of people’s everyday travels. It was peaceful.

As they were about to take the southern path into town, Abigail noticed something in the western sky. Billows of smoke rose in the distance, around where Cordero Farm would be.

“Uh, guys… That is a lot of smoke right?”

Sam looked up at Abigail and followed her line of sight. “I mean, It looks like it. It could just be a bonfire though…” he reasoned.

“If that’s coming from the farm, the farmer could just be burning some brush… that place needed a lot of work,” Sebastian added.

“But what if she’s in trouble?” Abigail asked. “No one will be out and about for another thirty minutes and if she is in trouble, it’ll be too late!”

“Then maybe she should rethink her new vocation,” Sebastian muttered.

“Sebastian!” Abigail yelled, trudging towards.

“We’ll go check on her, but if she gets pissed at us for being on her land without permission, it’s all on you,” Sam reasoned, getting in between the two.

“Fine.”

Abigail led the jog past the old community center instead of into town, west towards the bus stop and to the farm beyond.

_Why am I so worried? Sloane can take care of herself._

That’s when Sloane’s eyes the first day they met came back to her. Sloane was surprised and then froze until she had analyzed the situation. _What if she froze again? And then, because of her hesitation, she lost all she has worked for?_

She picked up her pace.

 

_Hurley laid in a curled heap in the shallow water, veins of black slowly curling up her neck._

**_LISTEN TO ME!!_ **

_Sloane ignored the pull of the sash_ _’s thrall, rushing to Hurley’s side and pulling her close. She could feel the power of the sash wash from her body as the tornado dissipated and the vine towers wilted and withered away. For the first time in months, her skin was her natural brown instead of mottled green and gray. Militia sirens blared in the distance, making their way from the race track to the center pool in the middle of Goldcliff._

_“You’re in trouble…” Hurley said in a soft voice with a small laugh and a cough._

_Sloane couldn_ _’t help but laugh. After everything, with the heists, the illegal racing, and going behind Hurley’s lieutenant position in the militia, she was finally in trouble. Her vision blurred as he held back tears as she watched the poison work it’s way through her system._

_“This whole time I was looking for something more powerful than this fucking belt,” Sloane murmured, pushing the sweat-soaked hair out of Hurley’s face. “I’m such a fool…”_

_“Haha, yeah.”_

_As the three crew members Hurley brought along argued about what they were going to do, Sloane buried her face in the curve of Hurley_ _’s neck._

_“I-I can’t. I’m so sorry,” Sloane stuttered. “I can’t stop it. I love you so much and I can’t stop it. So much for power…”_

**_I will not stop the spread of nature. Death is a natural part of life._ **

_“Sloane, look at me,” Hurley whispered._

_Sloane lifted her head slightly, meeting Hurley_ _’s eyes. She saw how much her fiancee was struggling to keep her eyes open._

_“I’m not mad,” Hurley said simply. “I love you, too. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. And, to be honest, this isn’t the worst last view someone could have.”_

I can’t let her die.

_And then it hit Sloane. Hurley didn_ _’t have to die. She wouldn’t be herself anymore, but the sash only had power over so much._

_“How do you feel about becoming a tree?” Sloane whispered. “You can live on… you don’t have to die like this…”_

_“Yeah, I think that would be alright.”_

_Sloane clutched the Gaia Sash and, with an amount of control she had never mustered before, invoked it_ _’s power. In a blinding flash, Hurley’s form stretched and hardened. Dying skin and muscle turn to bark in Sloane’s arms._

_Once her eyes adjusted, the body of Hurley no longer laid before her. Instead stood a towering cherry tree in bloom, it_ _’s roots dug into the soil under the pool of water. Hurley’s Ram racing helmet hung from a low branch._

Sloane stared at the smoldering soaked vines. She didn’t remember much of the weeks after that day. She accompanied the crew back to their base and faced her verdict. She wasn’t held for her crimes or faced a fine. But she watched as, what she then learned, the Bureau of Balance fed any and all information on the calamity she had caused to what they called the void fish. Taako explained that it would erase whatever information it was fed from the memory of everyone who hadn’t drunk a special potion. A potion she had just drank not two minutes prior.

Her sentence was to remember.

Sloane sighed, thinking back to the crew. She had grown close to Magnus through shared grief. He lost his wife not two years prior.

_I should give him a call. I don_ _’t think I told him I moved…_

 

Abigail's breathing came in ragged breaths as they passed by the sign directing them to Cordero Farm.

_How does she make this trek every day?_

She shook her head at the passing thought as they rounded the small turn into the farm, where she was brought to a halt. Nearly half of the overgrowth she had hiked through time and time again was cleared, replaced with fields of parsnips, potatoes, cauliflower, and strawberries. Closer to the house, a trellis for green beans stood half built in front of a makeshift processing area. A few small casks stood next to an open curing jar and some other machine only half built. Closer to the pond, clouds of rolling smoke caught the wind, obscuring part of the sky.

“Sloane?!” Abigail yelled, running down the path between the parsnip and potato fields to where the smoke originated.

No response.

Abigail’s heart sunk, her mind providing only the most negative outcomes.

“Abby! Don’t go too far ahead. We can barely see you!” Sam yelled from somewhere behind her.

“What the hell are you guys yelling about?!” A new voice called from within the smoke. _Sloane!_

“There is so much smoke! Are you alright?” Abigail replied.

“The first time I burn some brush and you guys come running out like I’m going to burn all of Cindersnap down!” Sloane called back.

Abigail slowed her pace as the fire pit and Sloane’s silhouette manifested in the smoke. The fast journey and smoke inhalation caught up with her as she started hacking.

“Damn it,” Sloane said, walking around and pulling Abigail out of the smoke and sitting her down on a log on the other side of the pit opposite the smoke flow. “I don’t need you having some kind of asthma attack out here. My bike is almost out of gas and I’m not running you all the way to the clinic.”

After a few deep coughs, Abigail looked up at Sloane, who kneeled on one knee making sure she was alright. “I guess that wouldn’t help either of us. I’ll be fine.”

Abigail looked her up and down. Sloane was in her usual black tank top, a simple button-down tied around her waist over deep blue jeans. Her hair was tied up into a top knot with a few loose strands hanging in her face. The one thing that caught Abigail’s eye was the patterns down the woman’s arms. Down the right arm snaked black vines with silver thorns, all originating from a realistic ram skull. Down the left long thin branching scars spread down to her finger, standing out against her darker skin. _How did I not see these earlier?_

“Abby!” Sam said, emerging from the smoke and bending over to catch his breath.

“Have you been working on your cardio?” Sebastian asked, following not long after Sam.

“Ummm, so..”Sloane started, standing up and looking at the three of them. “I take it you all thought I was burning my own property down and decided that just barging in was the best mode of action. I’m pretty sure fire departments are a thing even in these parts…”

“I thought you were fine,” Sebastian retorted, airing his hoodie out. “Abby was the one who wanted to check.”

Sloane frowned and crossed her arms.

“What Sebastian means is that there was a good possibility that you were fine, but we wanted to make sure in case you weren’t,” Sam corrected, giving Sebastian a side glance. “I’m Sam by the way. Nice to meet ya.”

“Right, we didn’t mean to trespass. You’re apart of this community, so we were just looking out for you,” Abigail said, standing up.

Sloane sighed, turning and grabbing a long stick before returning to her fire. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. You guys don’t need to worry about me.”

Abigail looked into the pit, seeing mostly the remnants of some kind of vine. “Why are you burning these ones? You could have composted them or someth-”

“They are highly poisonous. Like, kill you in a minute poisonous. I’m not making compost out of that,” Sloane cut in, her voice lower than before.

Abigail looked over to Sloane, who seemed to be focused on the fire with a distant look.

“Well, she’s alright. You good?” Sebastian asked, crossing his arms and looking at Abigail.

Abigail rolled her eyes at Sebastian before turning to Sloane.

“Hey, we were going to head over to the Saloon to shoot some pool- well Sam and Seb shoot pool, I just watch. Either way, did you- ya’know- want to come with us? Seems like you had a long day…”

 Sloane looked at her feet before eying Sam, then Sebastian, and then stopping on Abigail, all without turning her body away from the fire.

While the stare probably lasted for only a moment, Abigail felt like she was being scrutinized for much longer. Those piercing blue eyes bore into hers before Sloane broke eye contact and returned to her pile of burning vines.

“I’ll meet you there. I have to make sure this doesn’t actually turn into something serious,” Sloane said after a moment. A small smirk appeared as she continued, “Can’t have you guys run out here for a valid reason, now can I?”

 “We’ll see you there then!” Abigail said with a grin. “Let’s go, guys!”

The trio made their way back to the entrance and off the farm property.

“Dude, her tattoo was sick!” Sam said once they were on the path back to town. “I’d say you should ask her out Seb if I thought you’d be interested. She is totally your style!”

“I got a weird feeling from her,” Sebastian said with a small frown, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“What do you mean? She may be a bit gruff, but she isn’t mean,” Abigail mentioned.

“No one gets a tattoo of Silverpoint vines coming out of a skull or moves out here from the city for a good reason,” Sebastian explained. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading the situation wrong, but I’m getting the feeling that she’s running from something.”

“I think you were binge-watching Criminal Minds again,” Sam said with a chuckle. “Maybe you can get a better read on her when she shows up.”

“If she shows up…”

“Don’t be like that, Seb! She’ll show!” Abigail said with a frown.

“Ok, I don’t know what your thing with this girl is, Abby. Just don’t go jumping head first into anything, especially with someone who seems to be dealing with enough of their own issues,” Sebastian said. “I don’t want to see you get hurt like last time.”

Abigail rolled her eyes, shoving ahead. _Sloane is nothing like Levi._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again everyone for reading! I will try to post regularly, but life and my brain can get in the way (like trying to make the video game scene not feel forced). Next chapter will probably be some Abby backstory and maybe some pool hijinks. We'll see.


	4. Assholes and Alcohol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sloane faces reality and Abigail deals with disappointment. 
> 
> Trigger warnings:  
> -Past Alcohol abuse  
> -Feelings become realized  
> -Joja Mart  
> -Pond water in cell phones

_Why did I think this was a good idea?_

The smell of fried foods barely masked the stronger smell of alcohol. Well, at least it was stronger to Sloane.

The whole town seemed to be packed in the saloon, either sitting and drinking with friends or dancing to the jukebox. A musical background to the incoherent cacophony of muttering in the room.

Sloane stood frozen in the doorway, doing her best to smother the urge to order some kind of drink and just forget for a while. Forget Joja, forget that she was the new person in town, forget that Hurley was gone.

“Farmer! Nice to see you finally join us!” A large mustached man called from behind the counter. And just like that, every face in the room seemed to turn and look at her, each person offering their own form of welcoming.

_Fuck Fuck Fuck._

Too much was going on and her body wanted to stay so badly. She could already feel the refreshing rush of fire burning down her throat. Burning away everything that had happened and leaving beautiful stillness. The stillness that she brought to herself.

_“Don’t do it, Sloane.”_

“Err,” was all that came out of Sloane’s mouth before she bolted out of the door, away from that crowd and Hurley’s disappointment.

She quickly danced around a confused Clint before jogging west. _What the hell? You knew that the Stardrop was a bar! Why did you say yes?_

She had no idea why the location didn’t register before she walked into the place. Abigail was just some girl who trespassed on her property with her friends, all purple hair and lack of self-preservation.

Sloane followed the path past the large ranch, winding in between pens of sheep and cows.

_“You didn’t give in.”_

She ignored the inner voice, focusing on her breathing as she trekked out into the forest. She hadn't been this far south before, having been too busy clearing the trees from her own land to have to worry about using trees from this forest. The soft rush of water sounded somewhere further south, marking the continuation of the river that flowed through town. Soon, only the crunch of her boots and the chirping of crickets made a sound as she continued further down the dark path. Small shafts of moonlight fell through the canopy, illuminating shards of the trail before her.

Sloane tried to imagine a young Hurley running through these trails, small bare feet in the soft earthy soil during a summer-long past.

_"Grandpa was always yelling at me to stay in sight. Evil creatures used the fireflies to lure curious children to their deaths.”_

On nights when Hurley wasn't assigned to night patrol and Sloane wasn’t breaking into the mansions of those past Little West End, they’d curl up on the couch and reminisce while watching terrible medical dramas. They’d talk about Hurley’s summers out here and Sloane’s trips to road shows and how Hurley wanted to settle down eventually. They would move out to the country and raise a family.

_Funny how that turned out._

The familiar pang of guilt spread through her chest, followed closely by the yearning to muffle it with a swig of whatever alcohol she could get her hands on.

She pressed her hand to the circular shape of her two-month chip that sat in her pocket.

_Almost three now._  

Three months sober in nearly two years of fighting. The longest she had gone without a relapse.

A month since her last call with Magnus.

A year and a half since she started with Joja.

Two years, one month, and eleven days since Hurley saved Sloane from herself.

_“I can't believe you still count that every day.”_

“Hush,” Sloane murmured, looking around at the thinning tree line. The path led down to a dock in a large pond. Lily pads floated gently in the water as dragonflies and other insects buzzed over the surface. A small oil lamp sat on the dock, illuminating a figure in a ratty blue hoodie as they drank from a fifth of whiskey.

_Is the only thing these people do on a Friday night is drink?_

The figure downed the rest of the bottle, before slumping forward and looking out over the water. As she approached, Sloane recognized the Joja Mart logo emblazoned on the back. She had seen him trudge to work once or twice when the passed through the town in the early morning.

The man tittered, falling on his side near the edge of the dock. Sloane sighed and started walking out. If he fell into the water, the next person out here would probably find him floating face down in the water.

_Doesn't sound like the worst way to go_ _…_

“Hey, buddy, you doin’ alright?” She asked, stepping out onto the old dock and ignoring her brain's innate reaction.

The man tensed in spot before sitting up and looking back at her. His face looked older than what it probably should have, with heavy bags under his eyes and five o’clock shadow on his jaw creeping down his neck. Short, dark purple hair hung just above his bloodshot eyes.

_Yoba, I need to get Magnus a new ax or something to make up for all the times he found me like this._

“Not your buddy,” he slurred before turning back to look at the pond.

“Alright, asshole then,” Sloane replied, sitting down next to the man. He reeked of booze and cleaning chemicals. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled. “You're up late for a farmer…”

“I have trouble sleeping.”

“Well, you missed out missed out on the good stuff though.” He held up the empty fifth before setting it behind him.

“No worries. Trying to stay clean.”

“Woman after my own heart,” he said, swaying forward a bit. “Buh. Life.”

“I hear ya, man,” Sloane said, placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him from toppling into the lake. “Probably a good time to head home, you think?”

_I sound like Magnus._

The man sighed and shrugged, not bothering to move her hand.

Sloane stood, pulling him up with her. He swayed, trying to get his footing, but ended up toppling over Sloane and sending them both into the icy water.

Sloane surfaced quickly, the chill waking her body up. The man splashed around before beginning to tread water. Sloane swam over and started to pull him towards shore, getting the feeling this wasn’t the first time he fell in.

She had seen that he was a fairly stocky dude while on the dock, but now that they were both soaking wet and he was only half able to swim, he was much heavier than she had anticipated as she drug him onto the shore.

“This is why I drank in the safety of my own home,” Sloan grumbled, wringing out her shirt while she let him compose himself.

“Oh, I do that too,” the man grumbled, trying to sit up. “Guess I took it too fast.”

“You guess?” Sloane replied with a roll of her eyes. “You okay to walk now that we are on solid land and soaked to the bone?”

The man sat up and sat quietly for a moment. Sloane knew he was doing a self-evaluation. She used to do them all the time, especially after bouts of sobriety.

“I should be good,” he said, getting to his feet. “I don’t need an escort.”

Sloane raised her eyebrows as he watched him stumble to the path.

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, following him. “Well, I’m headed the same way for the time being anyway. Might as well walk together.”

“Fine.”

They walked together for several minutes in silence. Sloane made sure that he didn’t fall flat on his face when they passed rough patches.

'Used to work for Joja too,” Sloane said, not wanting to realize just how shitty of a job it was to guide a drunk person home.

“Yeah?” the man said, looking over. “You one of their number crunchers?”

“Mechanic.”

The man’s eyes narrowed at her, studying her in the dim light of the forest trail.

“At least you know your way around tools,” he murmured. “The trucks themselves break down almost every time they come in. “

“If Joja actually invested in in decent parts, they wouldn’t need to ship people out every god damn day.”

The man grunted in agreement as they left the forest. Pens full of sleeping animals stood in the valley, lining the path north to her land.

“Not a far walk now,” he said, nodding to the ranch house. Sloane remembered the woman who ran the ranch visiting her a few days after she arrived, letting her know that she had animals and feed for sale if she wanted to start her own herd. _Marielle? No. Marnie. Thats her name._

“Well, have a good night,” Sloane said with a nod. “You owe me a drink if I take that habit up again for pushing me into the pond.”

“Didn’t ask you to come help.”

“Didn’t need you to ask.”

“You got some kind of hero complex or somethin’?” the man asked, a frown on his face.

Sloane forced a laugh. “It’s something. See ya later, asshole,” she said before heading to the north path.

“See ya later, hero,” The man replied, heading to the farmhouse.

The walk up to the farmhouse was one of winding between trees and boulders, avoiding thorny patches, and nearly getting turned around in some tall grass. Her small fields were a welcome sight.

Sloane pulled out her phone, forgetting that it was in her pocket when she went under. She pressed the power button a few times to no avail.

“Well, fuck.”

Walking up the steps, she shook it a few times. Small droplets of pond water splashed onto the old wood porch, but the phone still wouldn’t turn on. Unlocking the door and heading inside, she grabbed a bowl and scooped it into her bag of rice. _I hope this works._

After leaving the phone submerged in rice, she headed to the bathroom and stripped the soaked clothing off. The mirror was rimmed with black tarnish, but it still showed the branching scars running from her chest down the left shoulder and the mirrored silver point tattoos down the right. It still showed the mess of a soaked hair coming out of a top knot. It still showed the tired blue eyes she still hadn’t gotten used to staring back at her.

She pulled her gaze from her reflection and to the shower. Rinsing off tonight felt better than most. Hopefully, Magnus wouldn’t try to call her for a few more days, because either her phone would be fine after the rice or she would need to make a trip to Zuzu city for a new phone. And that meant leaving her farm unattended to for at least part of a day.

_Hopefully, the rice works_ _…_

 

 

Abigail fidgeted in her seat. Seb and Sam just broke and Sam was actually playing well enough to maybe beat Seb this time. It had been a while since that happened.

“I wonder when Sloane’s gonna show up,” Sam said, nearly sending the cue ball into a corner pocket.

“If she shows… she still had a lot of those vines to burn,” Seb commented.

“She’ll show. She said she would,” Abigail retorted.

Gus yelled something, but she couldn’t hear over the jukebox or the sound of pool balls slamming into each other.

“Aww man! I was in the lead too!” Sam said before starting to line up a shot. By the looks of the table, Sebastian pocketed a few more balls on his last turn.

Two games and several drinks later, Abigail sunk back in her seat. It had been two hours and still no sign. Maybe Seb is right.

“Guys, I’m heading out,” Abigail said, standing up and waving to the two.

Sebastian continued to line up a shot and only muttered a “See ya later.”

Sam glanced over and studied her for a moment with a frown.

“You okay walking home?”

Abigail evaluated herself for a moment. Her mind was a bit fuzzy, but she stopped at two drinks before switching to water. She could walk relatively straight.

“Yeah, thanks though.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow,” Sam said, fist-bumping her before returning to his game.

The walk home was short and quiet, most of the people from the saloon were already at home. She made her way around the storefront door to the back. The kitchen light was on and she could see forms moving inside.

“Hi honey,” Mom said, finishing up some dishes. “How was your day?”

“Alright. Class was boring, but I got to hang out with Sam and Seb afterward…” Abigail said, filling a glass with water and sipping on it.

“You don’t have class tomorrow, right?” Dad asked, not looking up from his financial managerial notes.

“No, but I have band practice in the afternoon,” Abigail said as she leaned against the counter.

“Before you go tomorrow, we need to make some space for Farmer Sloane’s crops. She said that the parsnips are going to be ready soon and Yoba knows that your handwriting is better than mine,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“Alright. I don’t think they’ll be ready for a few more days…”

“How do you know that?” Mom asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“There was smoke coming from the farm today and we went to go check up on her,” Abigail said with a slight frown. “The plants were still on the small side.”

“Good to know. Maybe we will put it off a little,” Dad said, going back to the planner.

“I’m going to head to bed,” Abigail said, standing straight and heading down the hall. She threw her bag on her desk chair before going and checking on David Jr. “Hey there, buddy. How are you doing?” She asked, opening the pen and pulling out the Guinea pig.

David Jr gave an excited squeak as he cuddled into her hand.

“I missed you too, buddy,” Abigail said, sitting on the floor and letting him roam. “I tried making friends with the new farmer today…”

Another squeak.

“I don’t think she likes being around people much. She said she would meet us for pool at the Stardrop, but she never showed.”

David Jr came back and crawled onto Abigail’s lap.

“Thanks, buddy. I guess I am a little disappointed. She actually seemed excited about coming…”

She stayed on the floor for a long time, watching David Jr crawl around while she enjoyed her buzz.

Something must have happened.

Abigail thought back to the fire. Crystal blue-gray eyes staring into the flames. Loose strands of black hair sticking to her forehead, free from the small top knot probably put up this morning. Her shoulders were tense, muscle covered in either tattoo or scars.

_Kinda lean for a farmer_ _…_

Whatever she did before gave her some muscle, but Sloane wasn’t what she had in mind when she thought of the person to take over Cordero Farm.

Old Man Cordero was short and built like an ox from what she could remember. Given that she was seven when he passed, she didn’t remember him super well, but she knew his land was quite productive when he was around. Sloane, on the other hand, was tall, and while she seemed strong, she didn’t exude the quiet power that everyone said came off of Cordero.

The image of Sloane’s arms wrapped around her from behind popped in her head, the taller woman’s chin resting on her shoulder as they looked out onto the northern lake during a storm.

She was in the middle of a content sigh before she realized exactly what she was fantasizing about.

_She didn't even show up when you invited her to hang out. What makes you think she_ _’d want to date you?_

Abigail swallowed and closed her eyes, re-centering herself.

_While it is true she didn_ _’t show up, it probably isn’t my fault. How she sees me will not be changed because she didn’t come to one event._

_Yeah, sure._

Abigail had read somewhere that logically opposing intrusive thoughts helped to make them less effective, but the tone that always seemed to come with her self-coachings always sounded like her mother.

Mom never seemed to fully understand how Abigail wanted to live her life. She tried to be supportive, but her passive aggressive comments about her hair or interests still cut deep.

“Yoba, I think it’s time for bed,” Abigail murmured, getting up and returning David Jr to his cage. Her head was starting to clear up and she finally noticed the lingering warm tightness in her chest.

Hmm.

She changed out of her day clothes into a loose t-shirt and some over-sized boxer shorts before climbing into bed.

And as she drifted off, the warmth of strong arms wrapped around her during a cool summer rain returned to her mind and the warmth in her chest grew.

 

 

Water sloshed out onto seedlings in erratic patterns as smoke filled the air.

_First, my phone is officially dead and then the vines came back. Fuck this._

Another splash of water drowning an unlucky sprout, knocking it over.

_“It's not the end of the world.”_

_Easy for you to say. You_ _’re not even sentient anymore._

Sloane stopped in her tracks, the weight of a half-filled watering can hanging between two arms. Her chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe. The broad branches of the ever flowering cherry tree in the middle of Goldcliff came to mind, moving gently in the wind. As predicted, the memory of Hurley, fiery in her passion for everything, turning into such a sedentary life form came next.

She sunk to the ground, water spilling out as the can fell to its side. Her head swayed, her vision becoming unfocused and mind unable to tear away from the fact of her inadequacy.

“Why am I even out here?” she whispered to herself, unable to take her eyes off of a partially buried seedling. “Can’t even take care of myself, why did I think I could take care of a whole farm?”

Hundreds of little living things, growing and needing her. She could feel it now, each little organism a blip on her internal radar. One of the potato plants two rows north needed a bit more water. A cucumber needed some help breaking the surface. The vines in the fire pit were screaming.

Sloane leaned forward, resting her forehead on the soil. Last time she was sober this long, she began hearing how needy the pigeons of Zuzu really were.

_“Breathe In.”_

The internal voice of Hurley did nothing to help the situation. A ghost of what could have been. A being alongside every other one she could feel in the field.

_Fuck off._

_“Breathe in.”_

_You_ _’re not real._

_“Sloane, please. You’re hyperventilating.”_

As soon as the voice in her head mentioned it, Sloane realized that she was, in fact, hyperventilating.

Now as nice as it would be to just take a break for a while, the logical portion of her brain pointed out, the fire pit was still going and she didn’t need the embarrassment of being found as a burning body on her own land.

_Seedling. Watering can. Tree. House. Motorbike_

_“Good. Four things you can hear?”_

_Birds chirping. Babbling of the river. Train in the distance. Wind in the trees._

_“Three to touch?”_

_Soil below me. Petals of my flowers. Wood on the shelves I_ _’m building._

_“Two to smell.”_

_Smoke and manure._

_“One to taste”_

_Mineral water._

_“Better?”_

Sloane wasn’t being consumed anymore and she could breathe, but her hands shook as they weakly clutched the handle of her watering can. Better was still subjective.

_“It’s been two years, Sloane.”_

_Some would say two isn_ _’t enough._

_“You have a therapist you could go see…”_

_The Bureau people are weird and walk on eggshells around me._

_“Magnus doesn't.”_

_My phone is dead._

_“I’m sure someone in town can point you in the right direction.”_

_Why are you the voice of reason?_

Mind Hurley didn’t respond.

“Yeah, that’s like you,” Sloane mumbled, slowly uncovering the seedlings in front of her. “Cops…”

Sloane proceeded to continue with her morning routine, going back through to the individual plants than needed a little extra attention. Knowing specifically what plants needed was useful for a farmer. Now she just needed to not be yelled at by a crowd all the time.

The vines burning in the pit eventually dimmed to embers as Sloane finished babying the needy plants. She looked back to her house and the smaller fire pit in front of it.

_Well, a shanty cottage is more accurate. Maybe salting the area around it will help when I have another nightmare_ _…_

Wiping the sweat from her brow, she compiled a shopping list. Salt. Rice. Pepper if she could afford it.

She took a deep breath, knowing the funds she brought were running low with the number of seeds she had needed to buy. _Maybe just salt and then swing down to the forest and gather some wild things. I felt them down there yesterday._

Making her way back to the house, she dropped off the watering can on her tool shelf before heading inside to wipe some of the grime of the morning chores off her skin. Her thoughts turned to her phone. The town didn’t seem big enough to have its own techie, but maybe Pierre could turn her to someone close by.

_Magnus is going to be so disappointed that I didn_ _’t tell him right as I moved out here. And the Director will ride his ass about losing me. Just more reasons to make the new ax very nice._

Sloane took a deep breath as she walked to her tinker area. The ground was strewn with bits of metal scrap and broken down machine parts that she had found in old buildings on the property. Not much was usable in its current state, but she knew that with some work, she could throw things together into a functioning contraption. But tinkering took time and energy she didn’t have at the moment, so the materials sat in her private corner.

However, during one of the rainy days when she didn’t have to water the fields, she built a ragtag wagon to haul things to and from Pelican Town. It wouldn’t be enough when the main crops fruited and she needed to haul produce to Pierre's in mass, but it would do for the time being.

She threw her messenger bag into the wagon and set off down the dirt road to town. She missed having a vehicle to race down roads, but she had to save what little gas she had left in the motorbike for the trip to the gas station, and even then she wasn’t sure if she could afford a full tank of gas right now.

Sloane sighed, wiping her face. She had no idea what she was doing and was barely holding this farm afloat. She wasn’t even sure how much salt she needed for this plan of hers to mitigate the Silver Point growth around her house.

The dirt path was lined with wild growing foliage, some she recognized as edible. She stopped and quickly plucked some of the wild horseradish, tossing it into the wagon as she tried to block out the obvious distress she had just put the plant under.

_Sorry, buddy. You_ _’ll be fine._

Continuing on her way, she spotted the first of several rooftops that signaled Pelican town. It was nothing like Zuzu, where people could stay anonymous and go about their lives. No, here word spread like the plague. She had the old granny offering her condolences about Hurley the first time Sloane met her, mentioning how “Sofia” was such a “sweet girl” when she had visited Old Man Cordero in the summers.

Sloane huffed, knowing that these people had never seen the woman Hurley grew up to be. Strong. Confident. Passionate. Caring.

_“You really do just have a marshmallow center under all that indifference, don’t’cha?”_

Sloane rolled her eyes but didn’t respond to the intrusion. She pulled her wagon past the small clinic to the community calendar and job board. Something called the Egg Festival was approaching along with several people’s birthdays and someone named Elliot put an ad up for fresh sardines.

“Just the woman I was hoping to see!” boomed a voice from behind her.

Sloane jumped and quickly spun around to see the large bartender approaching her from the south, a grease-stained paper bag clenched in one hand.

“Was going to deliver these to the farm, but you’re here,” the man said, holding the bag out to her. “Didn’t mean to startle ya last night. I’ve been told I can be a bit intimidating. I’m Gus, by the way. I don’t think we’ve officially met.”

Sloane blinked. This man though she left last night because he scared her? She couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’ve taken bigger guys than you on, Gus,” she said, holding her hand out to shake. “I realized a bit too late last night that I probably shouldn’t let myself just walk into a saloon. It’s nothing personal.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Farmer. I know not to get on your bad side,” Gus gave a hearty laugh, shaking her hand. “I’m glad I’m not the reason you up an ran last night. So, you coming in tonight? Same kind of atmosphere, minus the kids who play pool.”

Sloane shook her head. “Can’t. Bad habits are hard to kick. Don’t need to make it harder on myself.”

“Hate to hear it, but you’re doing right by you, so I can hardly blame ya,” Gus replied, setting the paper bag in her wagon. “Some of my famous zucchini fritters and marinara sauce for the road, just so you know what you're missing. On the house, of course. If you want something for pick up, just let me know. Don’t want to lose a valuable customer just because they’d rather not stick around.”

“Thanks for the offer. I’ll consider it next time I need a meal,” she said, nodding to the large man.

“I won’t take up any more of your time, farmer. See ya around!” Gus said before heading back south to the Saloon.

Sloane waved before looking at the bag in her wagon.

_No rice and horseradish for dinner tonight. I_ _’m going to eat like a queen._

Sloane grimaced at how low her standards had gotten in the last two years.

_If you could only see me now, babe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back guys! I know it has been six months, but here is the next chapter! I've been battling business and ideas of what direction I want to take this story and I'm sorry I haven't gotten this out sooner. I will try from now on to get at least one chapter out a month, if not every two weeks. I want to thank dracoangelica, GingerDelight, Xylianna and everyone else on the Starburst discord for being so supportive.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first story on here and my first story written for anything in a long while. I'd appreciate any constructive criticism and tips! This isn't beta read, so also let me know if you see something out of place or worded weirdly! I plan to keep this pretty safe for work in a sexual sense (writing porn is not really my thing), but hopefully this will be made up for with feelings and gore? I don't know and I only have part of the story mapped out in my head. Hopefully I can keep this on a biweekly schedule, but that may change once life picks back up again. I hope you enjoy this combination of fandoms and the mayhem that will ensue!


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